It was a perfect morning in late May when [The Alterother] and
his
father strolled onto the local golf course. A few other duffers
were
already on the links; they watched idly as father and son
removed
some rather unorthodox sporting equipment from their golf bags
and began to assemble
it on the practice green. One elderly
gent, a
veteran of the Korean War, removed his spectacles and began to
clean them, thinking that his eyes were mistaken; shirley that
couldn't be an 80mm mortar, could it?
With a whine of feedback, a military-surplus loudspeaker
crackled
to life and a great call of "FORE!" thundered across the course,
raising huge flocks of startled birds from the trees. Then there
came a loud PHOONK! and a strange projectile shot into the air--
white in color, vaguely cylindrical... That was all the other
golfers
could make out before it exploded with a BANG! and sent its
payload arcing over their heads. All around the course, golf balls
rained down with pinpoint accuracy: eighteen hole-in-ones!
Congratulating each other on yet another perfect score, [The
Alterother] and his Dad tore down their gear and headed for the
clubhouse.
It may seem like cheating, but MIRV golfing is actually quite a
challenge; you see, once separated from the delivery vehicle, the
independent golf balls describe unguided ballistic courses. Not
only must
the
placement and lay of the mortar itself be perfect, but the
internal
separation charge must be precisely arranged to propell each ball
a
different distance at a different velocity. Preparation is
everything,
while the game itself takes very little time to play, leaving the
rest
of the day for more productive activities, such as drinking.
Inspired by [AusCan531]'s anno in [Vernon]'s 'Godly Golf course'.